


Family Planning

by psychi



Series: One Life to Live (with Mutants) [2]
Category: X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Crack, Family, Humor, M/M, Mpreg, Wedding Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-21
Updated: 2011-08-21
Packaged: 2017-10-22 21:32:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychi/pseuds/psychi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mystique gets wedding-happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Planning

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [It's Never Too Late](http://archiveofourown.org/works/238894). Takes place in the X-Men movie-verse after X-Men 2.

“A Fall wedding sounds nice,” Mystique said out of nowhere. Victor turned to look at her, momentarily taking his eyes off of the hostages. “It'll have to be in Massachusetts, of course,” she added.

One of the humans squirmed and Victor snarled at him, sending the man cowering back behind the others. “I love Fall weddings,” one of the women said. “I mean, it's not traditional and you have to worry about the weather and if guests with kids will be available, but there's just something about all the warm colors.”

“I'm not sure about that though,” Mystique replied. “Just because it's Fall, do you have to decorate everything in leaves and acorns?”

“Oh no,” the woman answered. “I've seen some very glamorous decor at Fall weddings. Velvet is practically the fabric of the season, after all. Add to that gold leaf accents and the right lighting and it turns out beautifully. I'm a wedding planner, by the way.”

“You do mutant weddings?” Mystique asked. “My son and Victor's brother are going to need to get married pretty soon.”

“Do they know about this?” Victor asked and then pushed back a man trying to edge out of they direct line of sight with his foot, sending him sprawling and probably giving him a concussion.

“My grandchild will not be a bastard,” Mystique huffed.

“Why not?” Victor asked. “Every single one of your children have been.”

“Which is why I'm planning on making it up with this child. I've been thinking very hard about this and I believe it's the right thing to do. I may not have been the perfect mother...”

“Rabid crocodiles are more maternal than you,” Victor muttered.

“...but I think I'm going to be a very good grandmother,” Mystique continued, voice louder. “And my grandchild _will_ have a stable, loving home.”

Victor scoffed.

Somewhere else in the building, something metal screeched loudly as it twisted into a new shape and made the floor quake.

“I love doing mutant weddings,” the woman answered Mystique's previous question in a quivering and higher pitched voice. “In fact, my business partner is a mutant and I have a mutant cousin and I attend pro-mutant rallies.”

“You're babbling sweetheart,” Mystique informed her.

“I have a business card in my purse just over there,” she nodded towards the waiting area where a purse did indeed sit abandoned in a chair. “You can have one. You can take whatever you want.”

Victor's walkie-talkie beeped at him and he grabbed it, pressing in the talk button. “Sabertooth here.”

“I've found it, go ahead and get rid of the hostages,” Magneto informed him. “It does make it harder for the prosecution if we don't have any witnesses.”

“Will do boss,” Victor replied.

The woman started babbling incoherently, but her voice was thankfully drowned out with the frantic pleading of her fellow humans, which were cut off one by one as Victor went around breaking their necks. He looked up and over as the last slumped to the floor to see Mystique rifling through the woman's purse. “She's dead,” he said.

“She had a mutant partner,” Mystique reminded him. “And some very nice ideas.”

***

Magneto tapped his fingers rhythmically on the metal desk as those annoying metal balls of his swung together. “Why has our budget doubled in the last twenty-four hours?” he asked the group at large. “And what exactly is this event penciled in for the middle of October?”

“Kurt and Logan's wedding,” Mystique replied. “And since we're the bride's family, so to speak, it's our responsibility to pay for the bulk of it. Hence the budget – wedding's are very expensive these days.”

Erik looked at her sharply.

“Don't worry,” she added. “I'll take care of all the details and I've already hired a well recommended planner. All you'll have to do is show up.”

“And pay for it?” he snapped. “And also, when did this happen?”

“Kurt found out he was pregnant a few weeks ago,” Mystique answered. “Erik, we spend so much time fighting for mutant rights and a better future for our children and here a new one is going to come into the world. Don't you think it's for the good of the cause to support that blessed event?”

“No,” Erik flatly replied, never one to be shy about looking like a total asshole. “Make Charles pay for it or do some freelance work on the side. I don't care, just don't bother me with it.”

Mystique got up and stormed out in a huff. With his particularly keen hearing, Victor heard her mutter “just for that, I'm changing the seating” on her way out.

***

“Put this on,” Mystique said, thrusting a black ski-mask in Victor's face and obscuring his view of the television. “We're leaving in five minutes.”

Victor growled. “I just opened my beer and sat down to relax. Erik didn't say anything about going anywhere tonight.”

“This doesn't have anything to do with that cold, selfish prick,” Mystique snarled. “You're doing this for your family.”

“It's about the wedding, isn't it?” Victor took a long swig of his beer. “What if the kids just want to elope? Or if they don't want to get married at all? Have you even asked them yet? Come on. What if it was just a bootie-call? Don't make me be the voice of reason here. I don't like it.”

“I sent them one of the invitations,” she answered.

“You what?”

“I know it's early, but it's a Fall wedding. People have to plan their schedules,” Mystique insisted.

“But you had to send an invitation to the grooms!” Victor argued. “And you keep sending me and Azazel to check on them, but you don't actually go yourself. If you're serious about this whole weird, new nurturing thing, then you're going to have to get around to talking to your son.”

Mystique sat down on the coffee table in front of him. “But what if he hates me?”

Victor moaned as he threw back his head and stared at the dark gray, metal ceiling. “I can't believe I'm listening to this.”

Azazel picked that moment to port into the room. “What's the emergency?”

Victor growled, guzzled his beer down, tossed the ski-mask onto the coffee table, and practically leapt out of the chair. He grabbed Azazel's hand, dragging him over to where Mystique sat and grabbed her arm. “I can't take any more of this. Teleport us to the school. Now.”

Mystique just started to object when the room disappeared in a puff of smoke and the entrance of the Xavier Institute appeared before their eyes. Victor released Mystique and she fell over onto the ground in an uncharacteristically clumsy sprawl and glared up at him.

Instead of screams this time, they were met with hushed whispers, tittering laughs and one “holy shit, look at the naked chick.”

“Oh, for God's sake Raven,” Xavier exclaimed, somehow already in the area. “At least fake putting some clothes on. There are children here – one of them happens to be yours.”

She shifted her glare from Victor to Xavier and climbed up off the floor. “I refuse to be stifled by your prudish, patriarchal nonsense. I'm perfectly fine the way I am.”

“Then leave,” Xavier ordered. “You're a wanted fugitive anyway.”

“Fine,” Mystique readily agreed and reached for Azazel.

Victor stepped between them and pushed Azazel gently back. “No. You are talking to what's his name...”

“Kurt,” Azazel helpfully supplied.

“...and you're staying here until you do it.”

“I think that's a very good idea,” Azazel agreed from the safety of the other-side of Victor.

“Why don't you have any nipples?” a particularly innocent-looking little girl with braided pigtails asked, staring at Mystique's chest. Xavier put his head in his hand and Victor looked around the foyer to see all the students quite diligently gawking at Mystique's body.

“I don't know. Why don't you have any scales?” Mystique snapped back in a nasty tone. She turned back to Xavier. “The mutant body is a beautiful and natural work of God and I will not be subjugated to your old fashioned sense of morality,” she proclaimed proudly. “And this is my home too. You've always said that if I ever wanted to leave the Brotherhood, I could always move back home with you.”

The professor sighed the sigh of a much put upon martyr and Victor started to realize that being a drama queen apparently ran in the family. “If you left the Brotherhood, yes. I didn't plan on you bringing them with you for visits or sending your lackeys to spy on my staff on such frequent basis.”

“I'm not her lackey,” Victor grumbled and looked at Azazel for backup only to get an apathetic shrug in return.

Mystique looked over at Victor and Azazel briefly before standing up straighter, putting both hands on her hips and declaring, “Well get use to it, we're staying for dinner. Now where are the kids?”

***

"Why the hell are you people here?" Jimmy growled the moment he walked into the private dining room where Xavier had set them up away from the impressionable young eyes of schoolchildren. They were sitting at a long table with a pristine white, linen tablecloth with matching napkins. The china and crystal sparkled. Victor was kind of afraid to touch anything. "Is this a joke?" Jimmy asked.

"Logan, nice to see you again," Mystique greeted him with a polite smile. "Please have a seat. I think we should get to know each other better."

Jimmy took a step back towards the open doorway and backed into Cyclops who was coming through. "I don't."

"Logan," Cyclops complained and then looked over Jimmy's shoulder. "What the hell?"

"My thoughts exactly," Jimmy answered.

"Professor?" Cyclops asked.

Xavier finished off his glass of wine and started to pour another. "Let's just get this dinner over with. I think it's the fastest way to get rid of them."

"Charles," Mystique warned. "That's not polite."

"I'm sorry," Xavier condescended from the head of the table. "I didn't think I was in polite company."

Azazel snorted, earning a glare from Mystique and an chuckle from Victor. "What?" he asked. "He has a point."

Cyclops pushed forward and Jimmy edged into the room, walking around to the side opposite Mystique, Azazel and Victor, and pulled out a seat in the middle. Cyclops took the chair closest to Xavier. "Are we negotiating some kind of treaty?" he asked with skepticism.

"In a matter of speaking," Mystique answered, wearing an expression of nervous excitement. Cyclops stilled and then put his fingers up to his visor and turned some kind of dial.

"More like a shotgun wedding," Victor muttered low enough that only Jimmy looked his way. "Got any beer?" he asked in a louder voice.

"I'll get it," Jimmy volunteered, jumping up to leave the room.

Just after he went through the side-door which probably led to the kitchen, Mystique's boy arrived with Storm, chatting privately about something which took so much of their attention that they didn't look at their guests until they were pulling out chairs next to Cyclops. They both paused with twin expressions of confusion and panic.

"We're having dinner and then they're leaving," Xavier explained. "Wine?" he offered. Storm excepted while Kurt shook his head and poured some water for himself, avoiding looking at either of his parents in favor of studying the china pattern.

Jimmy came back in, carrying a six packs of fancy, bottled beer. "Hey, that's mine," Cyclops complained. Jimmy ignored him.

"Scotch, wine and beer? I didn't know schools kept this much alcohol on their premises," Azazel commented off-hand.

"You try being around kids all the time, every single day," Jimmy protested while handing Victor a beer. He shook up the next one and tossed it to Cyclops who sneered back at him and set it down next to his glass to rest.

"You don't like kids?" Mystique asked, sounding alarmed. Jimmy shrugged while opening a bottle and then gave it to Kurt. "Hey," she snapped at him. "What do you think you're doing?"

"What?" Jimmy asked, looking genuinely confused.

"You told her," Kurt half-asked, half-accused Azazel and then started cursing in German.

"He's pregnant you neanderthal jack-ass," Mystique yelled. "Fetal alcohol syndrome, ever heard of it? I swear to God, I don't know what your damage is, but if you hurt my grandchild..."

"Shut-up," Kurt hissed at her. "He doesn't know."

"Know what? Pregnant? Grandchild? What?" Jimmy sputtered.

"How could he not know?" Mystique asked and then turned to look at Victor. "I thought you talked to Logan?"

Victor looked at Kurt with a rare pang of sympathy as the boy shook his head and groaned in misery. "You said show him how to use a condom. I did that," Victor answered Mystique.

"Which was bizarre," Jimmy added, "and also something I already knew how to do."

"Then, why didn't you?" Mystique bit back. "Were you trying to get my son in the family way? I thought you didn't like children."

Jimmy looked at her, down at Kurt who was now hunched in on himself and covering his face with his hands, and then to Victor as his eyes lit up in comprehension. "Oh," he said, sitting down in his chair. "But..."

"He's a mutant you nit-wit. Anything's possible," Mystique sneered at him in open hostility.

"Stop insulting him," Kurt snapped at his mother, uncovering his face and glaring at her. "Why are you even here?"

Mystique's eyes widened at her son's anger and she shrank back into her seat. "I..."

"Wait a second?" Cyclops interrupted. "Am I following this? You're pregnant and Logan's the father?" he asked Kurt who didn't waver in staring down Mystique. "Except Logan didn't know, but somehow the Brotherhood of Mutants did?"

"Yes," Kurt replied.

"Mystique's your mother?" Logan asked.

"More like sperm donator from what I've been told," Kurt corrected.

Xavier winced and poured himself another glass of wine, shaking the bottle a little as it ran dry. Cyclops and Storm looked confused again.

"She was shape-shifted at the time," Azazel clarified to them both much to Cyclop's apparent horror. Storm looked thoughtful.

"I have only met her that one time she and Magneto tried to commit genocide and then left us all behind in Stryker's base to die," Kurt added pointedly.

"Oh yes, I remember that," Xavier supplied. "Nothing like being used to kill and then stabbed in the back and left to die by the two of you." He took a large drink of his wine and then added, "again."

Mystique looked sick with guilt and then she gazed over at Azazel for support and then to Victor when he wouldn't look back.

"Don't look at me," Victor told her. "You didn't think this whole family reconciliation thing would be easy, did you?"

"That's what you're trying to do?" Kurt asked her. "Why now?"

Mystique looked at him. "You're pregnant," she answered, voice quiet. "It's a new start. A chance to do...better."

Kurt's expression softened.

"It's like One Life to Live," Cyclops commented, "with mutants."

***

"Where have you three been?" Magneto asked them sharply once they'd returned, carrying leftovers from a dinner where no one actually ever got around to eating. Although they did get through an awful lot of alcohol. He was holding the black ski-mask Victor left behind. "Please tell me you didn't rob a bank and forget to wear a mask," he complained. "We'll never convince anybody we're legitimate freedom fighters if we get caught doing something like that."

"We're going legitimate?" Mystique asked, surprised.

"Sort of," Erik replied. "You left before Eileen could give her report. All the evidence from Ellis Island has been destroyed and with our counter-intelligence from Stryker's experiments as blackmail, there's no reason to remain fugitives. Why do you think we need such a large budget?"

"Bombs?" Azazel guessed.

"PR campaign and legal fees," Victor replied.

"We didn't rob a bank," Mystique told Erik. "We had dinner with Kurt and Charles." Erik looked at her like she'd just told him she robbed a bank and didn't bother to change forms. "And you need to apologize," Mystique informed him.

"Whatever for?"

"That stunt we pulled at Alkali Lake - it was like the Cuban missile crisis all over again, except this time we hurt Charles on purpose. It wasn't right."

Erik scoffed. "They're the enemy. What do they expect?"

"They're not just the enemy," Mystique insisted. "They're family too. That changes things."

"It'd be good for PR if we started playing nice with the X-Men," Victor said. "Might even be good to make the wedding part of the campaign."

"Everyone loves a wedding," Azazel agreed, and then asked, "do the boys know about the wedding yet?"

"Mystique sent them an invitation," Victor replied.

"It should get there in a couple of days," Mystique said. "It went out this morning."

Erik looked thoughtful. "Let me know the next time you go to have dinner. Once the lawyers come through with my stay out of jail pass, I suppose I should tag along."

"Does this mean I get a part of the budget?" Mystique asked.

"We'll negotiate," Erik conceded. "But I refuse to pay for it all."

"I've got some money," Azazel offered. Mystique looked at him sharply. "What? I'm five thousand years old. You think I don't have a financial portfolio by now?" Her eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning. "We'll negotiate," Azazel hastily added. "It's not like I'm Tony Stark."


End file.
